


oh hope springeth eternal

by penscritch



Series: were wishes ten thousand stars enough [3]
Category: Den lille Havfrue | The Little Mermaid - Hans Christian Andersen, Little Mermaid - All Media Types
Genre: Added bonus of gory disease descriptions, Dead kids, F/M, because of disease, no seriously, what you think she gets nice duties as a daughter of air
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:28:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penscritch/pseuds/penscritch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dead speak softly, in words we never hear. The Little Mermaid, as she carries out her duties as a daughter of the air. The Little Mermaid (Hans Christian Andersen)</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh hope springeth eternal

The children are dying. The sickness caught quickly, flying on silent wings among the living. Elders, wise men, mothers and fathers, it passed by and left not one untouched yet itself was incapable of mercy, which may touch the hardest of hearts. The carrion flies are busy.  
  
The children die in droves, in swarms, in helpless trembling heaps in the humid air. Most are dead and the few that remain do not have even the strength to cry out their fear and pain. Rare twins, a boy and girl, rest against the tree that they have dragged themselves to, leaving a dark wet trail in the parched earth. Their breaths are slow and tortured. They will not last the hour.  
  
It is here that she comes -- this hovel of misery and despair into which no light gleams. The brother and sister clasp hands weakly, desperately. Their tears are red with blood.   
  
She cannot take the sickness from them, but she can comfort. She wraps breezes cool enough to soothe, warm enough to ward the shivering ache of fever. She holds both their hands, a trinity, though they cannot see. She sings a song of deep waters and silvery flashes and the endless calm of the midnight sea. She sings for them a song of home, in the delicate spun arches of her father’s palace and the careful gardens her sisters tended bright with vibrant color. She sings of the love she left behind by the cold seashore, who she hopes to see again.  
  
Silently, they pass away. Their souls are soft and warm in her hands as she cradles them, bears them heavenward. These are the last souls she will bear as a daughter of the air, and she feels the trembling anticipation of imminent grace. She wonders if she will feel like this, one day -- a beautiful light borne into the vault of heaven.  
  
She wants to see him again.

**Author's Note:**

> The disease described is Ebola. There are various strains of it, but all of them have at least a 50% fatality rate. Very high. The worse ones have something like a 90% fatality rate. It’s an excruciating illness to suffer through, since it destroys your internal organs and in severe cases can result in hemorrhaging (internal and external).


End file.
